When You're Ready
by hopeful-canyon
Summary: Luka leaves the country that betrayed him and comes to America. His life before County.
1. Chapter 1: When You're Ready

Chapter 1: "When You're Ready"

Luka sat down to write the letter he dreaded.

_Goodbye Tata. Thank you for understanding. I know this is hard for you, as it is hard for me. Things have changed and for a time, I cannot be here. I need the comfort of newness. Don't worry about me, just focus on everyone here._

_Love Luka_

He slipped the note on the counter for his father. He could have just said these words to him, but wanted to leave the man something. He picked up his suitcase and surveyed the room a final time. This house had raised him as a child, and again these last few weeks.

Luka's father was accompanying him to the airport in Zagreb, which would be his final memory of Croatia, at least for a while. He didn't know if he would ever return. It pained him to be here. He loved his country, but it had betrayed him.

"Good bye Luka. Take care of yourself. When you're ready, come home. We love you," the old man said softly, kissing his son's cheeks.

"I love you too, Tata," Luka whispered.

His father pulled him in an embrace and tucked a slip of glossy paper in Luka's hand.

"We only part to meet again, my son."

Now Luka, on the plane, opened his palm. He knew what it was as soon as it was in his hand, but had been hesitant to look at it. It was the picture of Jasna. Everything of Luka's had been destroyed, and even if there had been anything to salvage, he hadn't returned to his home sift through remnants of a family now gone. Luka's parents had something though. They had a single picture, the one of Jasna at her birthday. There was nothing of Marko or Danijela. Not even a wedding portrait.

As the plane flew over the ocean, Luka thought about his living family. He'd requested that only his father be there when he departed the country. His mother had said her goodbyes the night before and had been at the church all morning, praying for Luka, her grandchildren, and her daughters-in-law. She would have sat by the fresh graves of people too young to be buried there. There were many of those these days. She wasn't convinced Luka leaving Croatia, was a good idea, but then again, neither did any of his siblings. But nobody objected. Luka was fragile right now. A porcelain figurine propped at the very edge of a shelf. It was best to let him be. There was no farewell party. There was nothing to celebrate.

Luka hadn't been the only one devastated by the war. His older brother, Dusan, had been living in Krasna. Serbs had murdered his fiancée. Like Luka, he had gone back to his parents, who wanted nothing more than to protect their kind and beautiful children from the terrible reality that was their lives. Vesna, Luka's younger sister had been in France before the war started. She was a photographer and traveled all throughout the world. She had been safe from the bombs and guns, but had been unable to comfort her family when they needed her most. Luka's youngest brother Stipo had still been living with his parents, and had been unharmed as well. None of them would ever consider leaving Croatia. Luka himself was an unlikely candidate for move, considering the close relationship he shared with his father. But Luka was a changed man.

The doctor considered what his wife would think of his move to America. She never wanted to leave Croatia, except when the fighting started. But she was traditional. Danjiella would never have moved to America. Danjiela would have understood though. Understood why Luka needed to get out, needed a change of pace. She herself would have been strong in Luka's absence, stronger than Luka was in her's. He just loved his family so much, and they were gone, each and every one of them. He hadn't enjoyed enough the time he had spent for them, for he'd been working. It was the story for so many parents. They worked so hard to make a life for their families, and missed out on their family's lives.

"Sir, would you like a pillow?" asked a young female flight attendant. Her nametag declared that her name was Rosaline.

"Thanks to you," Luka said in fresh English, accepting the pillow from her manicured hands.

Luka propped his head on the tiny square of a pillow. He closed his eyes and fell into the first nightmare-free sleep in a long time.


	2. Chapter 2: Heard About It On The News

This will be a short chapter. I would really appreciate reviews, and thanks so much to anybody who read chapter 1. I'm still new and inexperienced in writing fanfics. I realized that I forgot to write a disclaimer for chapter 1, so:

I don't own ER or any of the characters.

Chapter 2: "Heard About It On The News"

"Attention passengers: we will be landing in Detroit, Michigan shortly. Please remain seated and fasten your seat belts. We know that you have choices when you fly, and we thank you for choosing Cooper Air."

Luka took a deep breath. As of right now, his new life was beginning. He wouldn't deny that he was scared. He knew that America was very much unlike Croatia, and there would be several adjustments to make. His English wasn't even that good.

Luka stepped out of the airport several hours later, exhausted. He found his way to a hotel and checked into a room. Tomorrow would be a very busy day. He would be looking for an apartment and a job. As he approached his hotel room, he examined the key card. He stuck it in the slot. Nothing happened. He tried again. Still no change. He looked at the instructions written on the card, and found his impatience growing. He flipped the card upside down and tried again. He threw his carry-on to the ground.

"CHORT!"

"Excuse me, are you all right?" timidly asked a lady who'd poked her head out her room.

"Um, well I can't appear to unlock this door," explained Luka, blushing.

"Let me give it a try," she said, swinging his door open.

"Thank-you," Luka said, still embarrassed.

"No problem. Here, make sure the card is facing this way when you swipe it. You're not from around here, are you?"

"No."

"Visiting family here in Michigan or something?" inquired the woman.

"No."

"Well where are you from?" continued the woman, unbothered by Luka's unintended rudeness.

"Croatia," Luka said gently, looking at the floor.

"Oh right, I've heard about that all on the news. There's a war there right now, right?"

Luka felt his back stiffen, and suddenly felt extremely tired.

"I'm sorry, I am getting to bed now."

"Oh right, well sorry for taking up your time. If you need anything, my name's Lisa, and I'm staying in room 412," the woman said, feeling as if she'd said something inappropriate.

Luka nodded. "Thank-you."

As Luka stepped into the room, he flung the little luggage he had on the ground. He didn't bother switching the lights on. Luka pulled the curtains closed, pushed back the covers on his bed and slipped between them.


	3. Chapter 3: Goodnight Tomato Soup

**Hello readers! If there are any, that is. I would love any suggestions for improvements, etc. I am new at this stuff! Anything you like or dislike, I would love to hear!!!**

Chapter 3: "Good Night Tomato Soup"

Luka braced himself for the streets of the city. He bent to tie his shoes, and opened the apartment door. It was his third day in America. He had been unable to leave the hotel room the day before. Luka looked around found his way to the elevator. He was going to find a job.

"Thank you for your application, sir. If we ever need your services, we will be sure to call you."

Luka nodded and left the building. So far, he hadn't found a hospital to hire him. He had applied at 3 so far. Luka tried to remain patient, but was becoming furious with himself. Why hadn't he anticipated this before he left Croatia? Had he really just left, without a plan, just expecting a new life waiting for him?

Luka walked out of the hospital. He wandered aimlessly around the city, giving up on his job search for the time.

"Excuse me, sir!" cried an old lady. She was half of Luka's height. "Excuse me!"

"Yes?" Luka said uncertainly. He didn't think she was talking to him.

"I'm sorry, but would you mind helping me? My tea fell out of my shopping bag and slid under my car. Do you think you could get it for me?"

Luka bent down. Sure enough, a little canister of tea was underneath the ancient car. He reached out and his long fingers closed around the grocery. He wiped it off on his jacket and handed it to the woman.

"Oh thank you so much! Such a handsome man! I must do something for you."

"That is not necessary. Just giving a helping arm."

"Oh, of course it is! Please, come over to my place tonight! I will make you a meal! I must fatten you up. Look at your frame! Besides, it will give me some company."

"Well….."

The lady handed Luka a ripped paper with her address on it. As he walked back to the hotel, Luka thought he would enjoy the company tonight as well.

Luka also lucked out when he found a sublet apartment. It was small, but Luka liked that about it. It meant fewer things to fill it. The previous owner even offered to sell Luka his furniture at a great price. He said he had been a bachelor for years, until he was 39. Finally, he'd met the love of his life, and they weren't wasting any time. He was moving in with her. The apartment had a bedroom with just enough room for a bed, a nightstand and chest of drawers. The living room and kitchen were sort of merged into one area, and there was a closet of a bathroom in a corner, with only a shower, no tub. He could move in next week.

Back at the hotel, Luka sat on the couch in his room. He reflected on his few days in his new home so far. The only words he'd really spoken were to employees at the airport, the hotel deskman, Lisa, hospital administrators and the little old lady. He'd called his mother yesterday, but the conversation had been cut short when she had company come over. This was not a good start to a new life. He may as well have joined the monkshood. But Luka was going to fix that. He needed to make a few friends here. Maybe this lady could be the first.

"Oh hello! Come on in!" chirped the lady. "By the way, my name's Irene."

"Luka," replied Luka, stepping into the apartment as small as his future one.

Luka studied his surroundings. The place was crowded, some might say stuffy, but oddly inviting to Luka. It was a real home. It reminded him of his mother. The couch was strewn with brown knitted afghans and crocheted pillows. There were picture frames and little artefacts on every bare surface. The little table was already set.

"I hope you like soup."

The meal Irene had prepared was a can of generic tomato soup and milk, but it was one of the nicest meals Luka had ever dined on. Irene let no moment of silence pass, always chattering. Luka was grateful, because it left little time for him to talk about himself.   
Irene was fascinating to listen to. By the end of the evening, Luka knew her entire life story. She was 84 years old. She had been born in England, and spent her youth traveling. Her family had been quite wealthy. She visited all of Europe, including Croatia and recognized Luka's accent immediately. Luka was happy she described Croatia as a beautiful country, the way he liked to remember it. So many people heard of Croatia now and couldn't even imagine visiting it. They didn't realize how great a country it had once been. Irene met her husband, Edouard, in France, on top of the Eifel Tower. Irene described it as the most romantic event in her life. After eloping in Spain, Irene and Ed lived in the Swiss Alps for 3 years and then immigrated to the United States because it was one of the few places she hadn't been to. They made a living in New York for 20 years, during which time they had two daughters, Isabelle and Christine. Isabelle was an accountant in Georgia now, with 3 grown children of her own. According to Irene, her son-in-law was the greatest jerk she'd ever met. Christine had become a pharmacist and moved to Detroit. Ed retired, while Irene grew nearly blind. One day, Rudy suffered a heart attack, and Christine urged her parents to move to Detroit so she could help take care of them. Ed and Irene hated Christine's house, however, and moved to an apartment building next door. They never cared for Detroit, and would prefer to live in New York, but chose to live closer to their daughter. One day, while out to buy some bread, Ed had another heart attack on the sidewalk, and died. Irene lived by herself. Another day, Christine got married and moved to the suburbs to work in a better pharmacy for more money. So Irene took care of herself despite her terrible vision, and saw Christine a few times a year, even though they lived in the same city. Isabelle visited from Georgia every second Boxing Day.

As Irene told her story, Luka's heart felt for the lonely woman. Such a great, lovely, interesting person had basically been abandoned by her family, and had no friends. Such a tragedy for someone to have such solitude. Luka gladly listened to her stories, and loved the animated smile on Irene's face. He could tell she rarely had the chance to tell her stories. As he left later that evening, Luka smiled and thanked Irene for her food and company. He bent down and hugged her fragile body and kissed her wrinkled cheek.

"Good night."


End file.
